


Study Session

by leighwrites



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, because we love amelia on this account, my wife asked for this and i complied, there's a desk involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: Stan always stresses himself out with work and Mike knows the perfect remedy for that.





	Study Session

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinyarmedtrex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/gifts).



Stan heaved an aggravated sigh, his eyes never once leaving the object of his irritation. The blank document on his laptop stared back at him, almost  _ mocking  _ him as the small black line flashed against the white background. Philosophy was going to be the death of him and he was regretting ever picking it as a class. Crossing his arms over his chest, Stan tilted his head to one side as though it would help him figure out how to do his assignment.

Across the apartment living room, Mike looked up from his social studies work, a brow arched as he took in Stan’s tense posture. Stan always stressed himself out when it came to his college work, and it was even worse when it came to finals.

With another sigh of aggravation, Stan pushed himself up from the desk and crossed the room, pausing when he reached the sofa to lean over it and give Mike a quick kiss. It had become somewhat of a habit between the two of them whenever they passed the other, even in their own apartment, though neither of them was sure just  _ when _ had it started.

Stan continued on his way, heading into the kitchen, which allowed Mike to see the blank document on the screen that had Stan so stressed out. With a soft hum, Mike quickly saved his essay and snapped his laptop shut, tossing it to one side on the sofa before standing with a stretch.

Stan definitely needed to relax and Mike knew just how to do that.

Stan returned a few moments later with a can of soda in hand, pausing just before he took a sip with a single brow arched. “You’re done already?”

“Nope. I’m taking a break. I think you need to take one too.”

Stan took a sip of the soda, heading back over to the computer desk and carefully placing the can down. “I haven’t even started, Mike.”

“You’ve been glaring holes into the laptop for the past hour, Stan.” Mike pointed out, crossing the room and sliding his arms around Stan’s waist. “Which means you were stressed before you even attempted to start, and you can’t think.” He leaned down, pressing a light kiss against the side of Stan’s neck. “You need to relax.”

There was a soft hum from Stan, teetering close onto the edge of a moan. “Do I now?”

“Mhm, and I know the perfect way to do that.” Mike reached out and grabbed the can of soda, moving it to the window ledge just behind the desk. “And a little birdie told me that you have a particular fantasy.” Snapping Stan’s laptop shut, Mike moved it to one side and pushed Stan forward into the desk.

“ _ Oh my fucking god, Richie  _ **_told_ ** _ you. _ ” Stan hissed, hands flying out to the desk to keep himself balanced.

“You should know better than to tell Richie things like this.” Mike’s voice was almost a purr, vibrating against the skin of Stan’s neck. “Maybe living out one of your fantasies will relax you to the point where you can actually think again.”

Stan doubted that. Whenever Mike was the one taking charge it took awhile for Stan to form a coherent thought in his head afterwards.

Stan opened his mouth, about to protest because  _ he really needed to get his work done _ , when Mike’s mouth pressed to his neck again and his hips rolled; grinding an already forming erection against his rear and drawing a moan from Stan, who curled his hands around the edge of the desk.

“G-God damn it. That’s not fair.” Stan said, drawing in a sharp breath. “You know that’s my weakness.”

Mike hummed an agreement, nibbling at skin of Stan’s neck. He could already feel Stan starting to relax, almost relying solely on his hands and Mike to keep him up. He bit down a little harder onto the patch of flesh and Stan’s body jerked, brushing his rear against Mike’s crotch.

Bracing one hand against the desk, Mike slid the other up into the front of Stan’s shirt, the tips of his fingers brushing against the smooth flesh. The amount of space between Stan’s stomach and the shirt took him by surprise for a moment, and then he let out a soft chuckle. “Is this one of my shirts?”

Stan hummed, the sound vibrating through his throat. “It was the first thing I grabbed out of the closet and I didn’t realise until I was  _ at  _ class.”

“Fuck.” Mike hissed, scraping his fingers against Stan’s stomach. “You’re keeping that on.”

“One of  _ your  _ fantasies?” Stan teased, purposely pushing his rear back against Mike again.

“You have no idea.” Mike dipped his hand down to Stan’s pants, fiddling with the button and popping it open before slipping a hand inside. His hand curled around the already hardened erection pushing up against Stan’s boxers. “Damn, look at you, already worked up and I haven’t even started.”

“Sh-shut up.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.” Mike pressed a firm kiss to his neck, withdrawing his hand from Stan’s pants. “Wait right there.”

Mike’s hand trailed up Stan’s stomach and across his hips, fingers dragging where the waistband of his boxers met his skin before he was gone; leaving the already worked up Stan at the desk. It didn’t take him long to return, idly tossing a bottle of lube up and down in one hand with a condom wrapper held between his teeth.

He trailed a hand up into the back of Stan’s shirt, letting the tips of his fingers dance lightly up Stan’s spine, while he placed the bottle next to one of the hands spread out across the desk, retrieving the condom from his mouth and placing it onto the desk.

“You still seem a little tense there, Stan.” Mike noted, trailing his hand back down to the base of Stan’s spine and hooking his fingers into the back of his pants. “I know just how to fix that.”

Removing his hand from inside Stan’s shirt, Mike hooked it into his pants with the other and slowly pulled them down until they were able to fall on their own, where they pooled around Stan’s ankles. 

And as much as he was in the  _ I just want you right now  _ mood, Mike still couldn’t help but stop for a moment to admire the view in front of him. There was something  _ truly  _ erotic about seeing Stan in just a pair of boxers and a shirt that was a couple of sizes too big for him.

Mike’s hands brushed against Stan’s hips, gripping them lightly and rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles against his waist. “You should dress like this more often. You look good like this -  _ really _ good.”

Stan’s breath caught in his throat at the praise, releasing into a barely audible moan. “Mikeee.”

“I know.” Mike soothed, sliding one hand across Stan’s back where it settled between his shoulder blades. “You’re going to hurt your arms like this, you know. Maybe you should,” he gave Stan a shove, forcing his hands to slide across the desk, until he was laid out against the smooth surface, “just lie down.”

Stan inhaled sharply, and Mike gave his hip a couple of gentle taps. Stan mimicked the action on the desk, his nail tapping against the wood with two quiet thuds. With the confirmation that Stan was okay, Mike reached for the bottle of lube with one hand, using the other to tug the remaining article of Stan’s lower clothing down.

Mike pushed the hem of the shirt up, giving himself better access as he popped the bottle of lube open with his thumb. Pouring some onto his fingers, Mike spread it evenly, using his knee to nudge Stan’s legs apart. Bracing himself with one hand against the desk, he gently nudged the tip of his lubricated finger against Stan’s entrance; carefully pushing just the tip inside of him.

“You good there, Stan?” Mike asked as his finger sank in to the knuckle, eliciting a sharp hiss from his boyfriend.

Stan nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Fine. It’s just… it’s been a while.”

Mike hummed lowly in acknowledgement. With their finals vastly approaching and the increased workload over the last couple of months, they’d barely had chance to do anything outside of quick handjobs or blowjobs.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re all nicely stretched out.” Mike assured him, pulling his finger out and carefully pushing it back in with a slight wiggle.

The moan that punched from Stan’s chest stilled Mike for a moment, a low groan escaping him. He hadn’t realised  _ just  _ how much he’d missed this. Stan already looked half wrecked from a single finger alone almost spread against the desk, lips parted slightly as he tried to control his breathing. 

Mike returned to the task at hand, adding a second finger once there was very little resistance from Stan; scissoring them inside of him as he slid them back and forth.

“Sh-shit.” Stan moaned, his hips bucking as Mike hit his prostate.

Mike slowly added a third and final finger, scissoring them a few times to ensure that Stan was  _ properly  _ stretched for him before removing his hand completely. Stan’s back heaved with each breath he took, whining at the loss of Mike’s contact. Mike made quick work of removing his own pants and boxers, reaching over Stan to grab the condom wrapper while trying to keep one hand on his shaking boyfriend and using his teeth to open the foil packet. 

He rolled the condom carefully onto his erection, reaching for the lube again as he bent to place a light kiss to Stan’s neck. He squeezed some more lube into his hand and spread it across his dick. “You ready for me?”

Stan groaned softly, his hands splaying out against the desk. “Y-yeah. I’m ready.”

Mike leaned up, placing a kiss to Stan’s jaw as he pressed himself slowly into Stan. Stan’s fingers flexed against the smooth wood, a long moan falling from his mouth as Mike filled him. Once he was fully inside, Mike pulled back and pushed forward with a sharp thrust that moved the desk a couple of inches with a creak.

Mike had one hand firmly gripping at Stan’s waist while the other travelled the expanse of his back under the shirt, fingertips lightly scraping across the flesh in a way that made made Stan’s back arch under the touch. He could feel every shiver of pleasure that raced through Stan’s body, his hips moving in hard thrusts that slammed the computer desk into the wall; drawing a loud pleasured gasp from Stan.

Stan’s fingernails scraped the surface of the desk as he tried to find  _ something  _ to grip onto, his eyes screwed shut while his entire body shook with intense pleasure. “O-oh  _ fuck _ , Mike...” Stan’s voice was a whimper, and he settled for folding his arms under his head, burying his face into the crook of his elbow in an attempt to muffle the moans that grew louder with each thrust.

Mike’s hand slowly slid back down until both hands had settled on Stan’s waist. He leaned forward, pressing a series of kisses to Stan’s neck up to his ear. “Feeling relaxed yet?” He asked, voice almost breathless against the shell of his ear before he gave a quick teasing nip to the lobe.

Stan couldn’t find the words to answer him, simply pushing his hips back against Mike as the desk slammed against the wall again with another  _ crack _ . His body heaved with each breath he took, loud pants mixed with moans filling the air. 

Mike moved a hand from Stan’s hip, bringing it up to the sweat saturated hair curls to push them out of the way. “ _ Shit _ , Stan, you look absolutely  _ wrecked _ .”

Stan took in a shaky breath, lips parting to respond when a particularly well angled thrust caused Mike to hit his prostate dead on, turning whatever Stan was trying to say into moans so loud that they were  _ almost _ screams. The increase in the volume of of Stan’s moans spurred Mike to speed up, aiming for that spot again as he wrapped an arm around Stan’s waist and curled a hand around the base of his dick.

Mike gave a single slow stroke that had Stan’s hips buck forward, sweeping his thumb against the head. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked hotter than you do right now, Stan.”

Stan could only respond with moans, his fingers scraping against the wood of the desk as it slammed against the wall once more. The louder Stan’s moaned became, the more frantic Mike’s thrusts were, and the faster his hand moved. He could feel Stan throbbing almost painfully in his hand until he couldn’t take it anymore, his orgasm washing over him. Mike stroked him through it, his thrusts almost erratic as he chased his own orgasm, only stilling when he felt himself throbbing inside Stan.

As he came down from the high, Mike slowly released Stan and placed his arms on either sides of the trembling man, leaning down to press a light kiss against his sweat covered neck, panting against the flesh. “How are you feeling?”

“Holy shit...” Stan breathed, moving a hand to his face to wipe away some of the sweat. “That was a lot more intense than I thought it would be.”

Mike chuckled, pressing another kiss to his neck. “Come on, let’s peel you out of that shirt and get you into the shower.”

Stan nodded in agreement and Mike slowly pulled out of him, removing the condom and tying it before tossing it into the nearby trash. Stepping out of the clothes pooled at his feet, he curled his arms around Stan and lifted him out of his own, easily swinging the smaller man  into his arms.

Stan suddenly let out a laugh, pressing his glowing forehead against Mike’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna be able to look at that desk the same again. Especially since Richie likes to sit on it.”


End file.
